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Sunday, July 21, 2019

Ananya Guha writes

Love, Death and Borders

Inscribed in letters is fetish of love
Inscribed in blood is the aroma of taste 
A body withers with the mind 
armed with gun shots, myopia deadens 
into death a forever being of love.

My mind beats, hammers the soil.
What is so deathly about death?
Minutes morph into lifelessness
and love stoops to think 
and reclaim all goriness associated 
with death.

Borders are our homes
we are without borders
homes are in borders
houses are not.
They are everywhere
and love and death. 
the death of love - la muerte del amor Painting by Arantzazu Martinez

la muerte del amor (the death of love) -- Arantzazu Martinez

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